Drabbles By The Firelight
by dulce.de.leche.go
Summary: It's been asked if I can do fluff. Here is my attempt to do so. This will be my collection of sweet and fluffy things that sometimes rattle around in my head but don't make it into my other fics. Unless otherwise stated, they're all in their own little stand alone universe. Rating may increase as content changes. Primarily Dramione but there may be others as inspiration hits.
1. Author's Note

_**Author's Note**_

A drabble, I believe by definition, is a work of fiction of 100 words. I've seen some definitions cite it as 500 or even 1000 or less, also. As all my lovely readers know, I can barely write an A/N of 100 words or less, much less a story. Be that as it may, I'll give you the shortest, fluffy story snippets I can muster for a bit of a change of pace to my usual less-than-fluffy. These are all random, independent universes for any curious. I hope you enjoy. :)

-Slik


	2. Mothering Sunday

_"Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream_  
><em> Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?"<em>

_- "Do I Love You Because You're Beautiful?" Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella  
><em>

* * *

><p>Hermione rolled around in bed, turning her back to the bedroom door and yanking a pillow from across the mattress to use as another layer to block out the sun.<p>

She was up, she'd been up for a while, though she refused to budge from the warm shelter of fluffy down and flannel sheets. She was utterly exhausted; this was the most obnoxious one to date.

Just as she was starting to nod off again, she heard the excited patter of feet slapping across the wood floors of the hall, followed by a familiar masculine shout and much louder, heavier footfalls. She smirked to herself, wiped out as she was, knowing that any second it would happen.

_Knock knock knock! _Then, _**BAM!**_

The bedroom door swung open immediately after the last knock – at least he was doing as he was told, 'knock before you enter'.

"Mum! Mummy! Mummy! Mum mum mum muuuuuuum-"

She exhaled heavily but smiled anyway, rolling over just in time to see her oldest struggling to pull himself up onto the top of the bed. Hermione reached a hand out to help him but he swatted it away with the most intense look of concentration on his face that reminded her of the scowls her husband would send her on occasion.

"Scorpius-"

"Mummy!" The little blonde boy interrupted loudly, finally making it onto the bed to crawl excitedly over. He slowed down to a very, overly controlled pace as he neared her belly, his grey eyes huge and focused on her rounded stomach.

"_Scorpius_," started again, watching her son reach out to pat her much-more-than-a-bump, bump, "where's the fire, little love?"

He blinked a few times, looking up at her strangely before a huge grin broke out onto his face and he seemed to recall why he'd come bounding into the room. "It's Mummy's day!"

"_SCORPIUS_!"

Hermione arched a brow as Draco appeared in the doorway, covered in what appeared to be flour and...other food items with their – thankfully _clean_ – tiny daughter cradled in one arm. She blinked over at her boy who had the decency to at least start to look ashamed before trying the huge puppy eye tactic; Draco had invented that one – it was part of the reason they were in this situation in the first place – he was immune.

She, however, not so much; _obviously_.

"Thank you," she said, slumping back into the pillows on her side, but not before scooping her little man to her for a cuddle. "Were you helping Daddy in the kitchen?"

Draco snorted, came in, and settled himself on the edge of the bed, setting Cassie down as well to let her wriggle her way to her mum as they both appeared to enjoy. "_Helping_ is subjective."

Hermione chuckled and watched as Scorpius tried to herd his sister in a more favorable way towards her head, reaching over and running a hand through his rowdy white blonde hair in adoration.

"It _was_ supposed to be a breakfast in bed sort of a thing...a surprise wake up call if you will." He stretched out in his space, reaching a foot out to run affectionately along the outline of hers overtop the sheets. "Someone got excited though."

"Just as well, you're a horrible cook."

"Am not!"

"You are," she said sweetly, smiled as she corralled her children against her side, head pillowed on one arm, lids feeling so very heavy.

She was already falling back asleep as she felt Draco's hand link with hers from across the pillows, felt him adjust the covers and heard him mumble something to their son.

Before she conked out entirely, Draco leaned over to whisper a "_Happy Mothering Sunday"_ against her temple and placed a soft kiss on her hugely satisfied smile as she was lulled back to sleep by the warmth of her family in their bed.


	3. Yule

"_1...2...3...1...2...3...1..2-"_

_"_So _serious_."

Hermione yelped and whipped around to face the intruder leaning against the empty classroom's doorway. Her mouth turned down in a frown. "I've still got the room booked for the next 20 minutes, Malfoy."

"I know," he said casually, pushed off from the door frame and entered anyway.

Her frown turned into a scowl. "I _said-_"

"I heard what you said, Granger," he said, waving her off and crossing to her spot near the phonograph. He gave her a long look, trying to think about if he'd ever seen her so 'out of uniform'; she still wore her skirt and leggings, those same, tired looking shoes, but she only had the untucked blouse, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and tie, loosened halfway down her chest, for her upper half.

No, no, he was fairly certain he'd never seen her so 'unkempt'.

"Then what are you doing?" The frown was back and she folded her arms in anticipation of his answer.

Draco waved his wand at the record player and the ridiculous ballroom music started. "Fixing this abysmal thing you call _dancing_."

She huffed, "What? _Please_, I've been practicing these steps since day ONE! They're practically _perfect._"

He scoffed and stepped up to her, hand out, waiting. When she just stared at it like he was growing boils, he cleared his throat to catch her attention. "Well?"

She raised a fine eyebrow. "You're not serious."

"I'm as serious as that face you were making when I found you."

Hermione rolled her eyes but placed her hand in his_. "FINE."_

Draco smirked and brought her fingers to his lips, delighting in the light flush to her cheeks before taking up the proper position and falling into step easily. He watched her face as they moved, her lips mainly, grinning when he saw that she was staring at their feet and mouthing out the steps. "Stop counting," he scolded her with humour lacing the words.

Her head popped up, another blush staining her skin while her hands braced on his shoulders and he lifted her in a twirl. "You're _distracting_ me-"

"You do know you'll be dancing _with_ someone, right? The possibility that they may be distracting is...quite likely." He eyed her as they waltzed, her gaze no longer stuck on their feet but somewhere off to his side. "And...which bloke happens to have the unfortunate task of accompanying you to the ball?" he asked breezily.

She allowed a tiny smirk to tilt her lips, still looking off to a spot over his left shoulder. "Who are you taking?"

"I asked you first."

She looked at him finally, noting he seemed decidedly..._worried._ Hermione faltered in their dance just slightly and looked away again, muttered something.

His grey eyes went round. "_WHO?"_

"Viktor Krum," she mumbled again.

Draco stopped suddenly in their steps, catching her when she stumbled into him. "Hermione! You were supposed to take the Weasel!"

She shot him a look at his whine. "I _tried._ He didn't ask...well, he did, but as a last resort. It was getting too close to deadline, so I said yes to Krum. I don't see why it matters-"

"Don't see why-" He flung his arms up and huffed, pouting. "I can't very well punch _Viktor Krum_ after it's all said and done."

"I TOLD you, you're not punching anyone!"

"But-!"

"No!" she said, waving a finger at him harshly. The man folded his arms and harrumphed, scowling at the dance floor. Hermione sighed and stepped into his space, one hand on his shoulder and the other brushing fringe out of his eyes. "It's all just to keep up appearances Draco...we'll still have the after party." She smirked and saw his trying to emerge, felt his hands settle at her waist again. "So, who did you end up asking anyway?"

"Pansy."

"I'll kill her!"

Draco laughed when she tried to escape his hold and tugged her back for another twirl, this one much less graceful than before. "They're 'just appearances' remember?"

"Oh sod off."

He snorted and brought her back in time with the music, moving fluidly with her through the steps until the piece came to its end and then he lingered, hands still resting at her waist. He smiled down at her and her light scowl until it finally dissolved the rest of the way and she'd forgotten what she was upset about. Draco swept in, dipping his head down to press a short, but sweet kiss to her lips, smoothing her hair away from her face and rubbing a light circle over her cheek. "Just a bit longer."

Hermione sighed against his mouth, nodded, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, rocking back and forth between her feet in something that vaguely resembled a slow dance. With her cheek cushioned on his chest, she nodded again and agreed, "Just a bit longer.


	4. Unlimited

_**A/N: **_For **Colubrina **and** LadiePhoenix007 **...because you know why.

* * *

><p>"Draco!"<p>

"NO."

"I didn't even say anything but your name!"

"But after that, you were going to ask me to come out, to which my answer remains 'NO'."

Hermione snorted and knocked on the bedroom door again, smudging the wood with some of the green paint on her knuckles. She huffed, waved her wand at the door to clean it up and cast a few other spells on her skin to help keep the color in place - she'd opted for makeup and a few spells versus actually magicking her skin green after what happened the last time; it wasn't difficult explaining to Kingsley why she was green for a week while she practiced, it was just humiliating as hell.

"Draco, baby, come on out. You promised."

"I don't care. And don't _baby_ me! This wasn't part of the deal!"

She sighed heavily and muttered an unlocking charm finally, peeking into the bedroom and seeing her husband staring at his reflection in the vanity. She couldn't help it, immediately bursting into laughter - actually "guffaw" was probably a better word to describe the noises hiccuping out of her.

Draco sneered at his reflection before whirling around and fixing her with a firm glare that was somewhat diffused by his pretty, sparkly ball gown with its multiple tiers of satins and netting, all saturated with an obnoxious amount of patterned glitter and sequins. His bodice was straining at his still rather impressive physique but it too was tempered by the sheer, off the shoulder, puff sleeves that stretched tight across his biceps.

"NO."

She struggled to stifle her laughter, making multiple attempts to stop snorting and giggling until she finally was able to tame the grin that kept trying to surface. Hermione approached him carefully, watching his shoulders bunch as she neared and she put her hands up as non-threateningly as possible.

"Draco, you promised you'd go with me to the party as a couple."

His sneer lessened, but _just _barely. "I was fully intending to be wearing trousers to fulfill my obligation."

She smirked. "It's not my fault you didn't familiarize yourself with the material before you agreed. Everyone who's anyone knows that the partner to Elphaba is Galinda and that was obviously who I was referring to. Our deal stands."

He scowled.

Her smile broadened cheekily.

They stood like that for some time before Draco finally let out a gruff sounding sigh. "You're lucky that I love you."

"I love you too," she beamed and moved in to give him a kiss, faltering when he stopped her with his hands on her wrists.

"You'll ruin the satin, love. Can't get it all green and whatnot." He smirked at her dumbfounded look and gave her the barest peck on the nose before snatching up his wand and making his way from the room in a confident swagger, dusting glitter across their carpet as he moved. "Meet you downstairs."

Hermione blinked at his back, looked at her hands, and saw that her spells still weren't keeping the makeup from smudging. She pouted when she realized he was very likely to continue punishing her with a lack of contact all night.

"Draco! Draco, that's not fair!"

The response she received was just a sweet falsetto singing out from down the hall.

"_Unlimited~~..."_


	5. Ginger

"I despise you."

Draco Malfoy's mortal enemy glared back at him from across the rather quaint dining room table.

"She said I had to be nice to you, you know. I think both you and I know that's not really in the cards."

The ginger's eyes narrowed in a tense kind of agreement, though he still said nothing in response.

Despite the constant mocking from the wizard, the intelligence of his enemy was easily seen within those hard staring eyes. Draco moved a plate of meager foodstuffs forward, a peace offering of sorts, as the man had never seen him _not_ ready and willing to shovel food into his maw. "I propose a deal."

His head tilted, the glare lessening only mildly, his gaze flicking between the plate then back to the man in a skeptical manner.

"She would be very upset if we don't get on well with one another. I don't like you and you don't like me, but the one thing I believe we can agree on is we both want to keep her happy. Correct?"

Those eyes narrowed further into impossibly tight slits and his head bobbed only slightly in the faintest idea of a nod.

"Right then, so here's the deal: when we're both here, stuck like we are, alone with one another, whatever the reason may be, we leave each other be. I won't fuck with you and you won't with me. When she's home, we pretend to get along to keep her satisfied." The redhead started to open his mouth and Draco held up a hand. "Just when she's looking, just when she's in the room. It's only temporary in any case. I'll be working again soon and we won't have to entertain each other's company most days anyway. Hell, you'll have run of the house even, but when we're all home together, we're one big, bloody happy family. Deal?"

"_Draco? Draco, where are you?"_

The two of them jolted upright at the sound of Hermione's voice carrying from the foyer to the dining room.

"Here. In here," he called out loudly and clearly so she could follow the sound of his voice. Draco eyed his foe once more, silently urging him to make his decision before the witch entered the room.

Hermione appeared in the doorway to the dining room, head peering cautiously around the corner and relaxing instantly when she saw the pair of them. She sighed, relieved, and hefted the few bags of takeaway into view and onto the table.

Draco watched her, resisting the urge to help, knowing it would just get him yelled at, as usual, if he tried. "I was starting to worry."

She scoffed at that, finished setting everything out then turned to them again. This time, Hermione leaned in, giving her husband a loving peck on the lips, and reached down to stroke the outrageously fluffy head of Crookshanks who was currently sitting looking utterly relaxed in his lap. "I was more worried about the two of you having it out in the twenty minutes it takes to run down to the corner and back." With a few more doting pets, she hummed, "Were you good for Draco while I was away, Crooks?"

The old cat punctuated his loud, almost overdramatic, purring with an equally loud, happy meow from the perch of Draco's lap.

"A perfect gentleman," Draco said and smirked charmingly; he even gave the cat a few stiff pets which neither of them seemed to enjoy.

"Oh good," she said, missing the sneering expression on them both, "I'm glad you two seem to have finally managed to get your acts together." Hermione turned away then. "I'll be right back with some plates and things and we can finally have dinner without a ruckus."

Draco and Crookshanks watched her depart, forced pleasant looks on both of their faces until she was well out of eye and earshot. The cat quickly launched himself off of Draco's legs, sure to dig all four sets of claws into them as he pushed off. Draco barely contained the pained noise at the punctures and failed entirely at keeping the venomous snarl about 'Merlin-damned squashy faced cats' silent.

"What was that?" Hermione reappeared with plates, forks, and napkins in hand, going about setting their places immediately.

Draco was allowed to help with this much, he knew, and so he did. In the midst of the mundane task, he caught that amber eyed stare again, glaring at him from around the edge of the doorway, and he glared back.

"Nothing, love, nothing at all."


	6. Muggle Studies

_**A/N:**_ This isn't really what I would consider a drabble, but it wasn't what I felt was long enough for a stand alone one-shot either, so I'm putting it here. Upped the rating to M just to be safe, there's nothing explicit here, but definite sexual references. Kudos to those of you who can guess which ridiculous movie I nicked the idea from.

* * *

><p>Once upon a time, if anyone were to ask Draco Malfoy if he'd ever sat through a Muggle Studies course, he'd have hexed them clear into next Tuesday at that absurd notion. That was a long time ago, however; before the war, before his pardon, before his re-admittance into Hogwarts under very strict guidelines of the courses he would take towards satisfying terms of his rehabilitation. He got to keep advanced potions and had more than a handful of accelerated classes dumped onto his plate to work on in his do-over year. Most of them, while taxing, were very doable and without <em>other<em> distractions clouding his mind, he was able to put forth all of his efforts into his studies.

Well..._most_ of his efforts anyway.

Draco sat in a chair in his private dormitory – a cell really as not even any of the Slytherins cared to room with a former Death Eater – eying his girlfriend intensely where she was sitting on his bed. She looked at him in return, calm and expectant, her bushy brown hair tousled and her figure looking absolutely delectable in only her bra, knickers, and uniform skirt.

Once upon a time, if anyone were to ask Draco Malfoy if he'd ever date a Muggle or a Muggle-born witch, he'd also have hexed them into oblivion. That too, Draco thought to himself thankfully as he answered another question and she removed her skirt, was a very long time ago.

Ten questions.

Ten pieces of clothing, though only because she insisted that each sock count as "one".

Hermione finished wriggling out of her skirt and tossed it into the pile with the rest of her things. "Very good, Draco."

"Why the tone of surprise?" he snarked, though his eyes were very firmly fixed on their course of trailing over her body.

As he guessed The Ministry expected, Muggle Studies was his absolute worst subject, due to his utter lack of exposure to everything Muggle growing up; it was also his most mandatory of mandatory classes and one that he _had_ to pass with superior marks if he were to be released into the adult wizarding world.

Enter Hermione Granger.

Their budding relationship had been a rocky thing and a blur all at once, but without the other parts of the terrible trio present, she'd actually allowed him to try and make amends. While it's not what he set out for originally, he was happy now, happier than he'd ever been with this brilliant witch who had very much come into her age, sitting across from him and helping him study on a subject that she knew of most intimately.

"Because I don't believe you've been doing the reading I've assigned at all," she hummed and leaned her weight back on the heels of her hands. She gave him a very good view of her matching underthings, a racy black lace set she'd worn with particular purpose that day.

"Please," he said dismissively then gestured to her with his head, "I've _clearly_ been doing the reading."

He hadn't. Not really. He'd just been memorizing a few key things here and there and _definitely_ been committing the questions she'd been asking and their respective answers to memory ever since they started these unique study sessions. For such a smart witch, she didn't change up the material that much; it ensured that he would definitely get them all right today.

"Alright." Hermione shrugged and sat forward again, reaching around her back to the clasp of her bra. She barely contained the devious smirk that fought to quirk her lips at the sight of him leaning forward, even licking his lips as stealthily as he could manage. "Describe the three main parts of a Muggle telephone and their primary functions."

Draco haughtily opened his mouth to answer, paused a moment, then said, "What?"

She arched a brow. "I said, describe the three main parts of a Muggle telephone and their primary functions."

"Wh-a Muggle telephone? You haven't asked that question before!" he sputtered, "Th-that's pulling from old third year studies! You've been asking-"

"I've been asking questions that are likely to be on your exam," she said patiently, "this is, after all, an exit exam. You'll be tested on all the knowledge you've accumulated up to this point." At the still bewildered look on her boyfriend's face, she added, "Also, I advised you to look at those chapters after our last session."

Draco was red faced and pale all at once; she'd obviously caught him right in the midst of his lie and, while she didn't seem the least bit perturbed by it, it was still embarrassing and terrifying all the same.

"Well?"

"Ah..ah..I…"

"Come on, Malfoy, you know this," she said encouragingly, even going so far as to unclasp the hooks on her bra and show him that she was only holding the garment in place now.

He swallowed thickly. "A…a Muggle telephone," he stuttered, buying himself time before she decided to throw an old sack over herself at the truly lost cause he was, "has three main parts. The first…i-is…the…the keypad?"

He didn't mean to make it a question.

"Yes! And its function?"

Bolstered by his partial success, his brow furrowed, tongue trailing over the backs of his teeth as he thought. "To dial the numbers…to 'call' other Muggles."

"Yes! Very good! What else?"

"Uh..transmitter?" he asked and brightened again when she smiled at him, "That's the bit that you talk into! It carries whatever you say with it to the other end."

Hermione shrugged out of the straps and held the cups over her breasts, beaming proudly at him. "Right! One more, love, you've got it!"

He chewed on his tongue, shifting uncomfortably as his trousers became more and more constricting where she'd stuck him to the chair – the only way to keep him from ending their sessions prematurely, as it were. Draco was having an awful time thinking with her nearly bared to him. She'd put the halt on any extracurricular activities while they prepared for exams and she'd only started this as an extra incentive for him to get through his worst subject. It worked for the most part, but he still struggled. Muggle Studies was particularly boring and he'd much rather be studying his Muggle-born girlfriend instead of some dry old text, especially when he thought about how soft he knew those breasts were. How they fit just perfectly into his palms. How the nipples perked adorably when he bit here or licked there or when he—

"Draco?"

He swallowed audibly, attention trying to come back to the present. "Ah..the third…number three," he babbled and wracked his brain, trying to get the images of her arching under him, crying out his name, out of his head, "the third piece..."

Hermione watched him, his concentration rapidly fizzling out. She sighed and started putting her bra back on. "Tomorrow then."

"What?" his head shot up, eyes huge and frantic, "No! No no no! The third, the third, it's…the ear…piece…thing. The ear-…mitter!" At her look he tried again. "Ear-ceiver! The listening bit!"

She was fastening the clasps now. "Receiver, Draco."

"That's what I said!" he moaned in dismay when she bent over the bed to fetch her other clothes and he saw her knickers were much, much tinier in the back than he'd initially thought. He nearly cried when she started pulling everything back on. "Ohhh, no, don't do that, Hermione! Come on! Don't I get half credit?"

Hermione slid back into her skirt and was fastening her blouse with the rest of her clothes draped over an arm when she padded over to his spot where he was anchored to the chair. She watched the wizard pouting like someone had just taken away his favorite broom and leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. She paused at his ear and whispered, "Study and we'll try again tomorrow night. Chapters one through four." Another kiss and, "I'll wear the red ones you like so much."

His lids fluttered shut when she ran her hand teasingly over his lap and he groaned when, just as quickly, she was gone.

Draco checked the clock; the sticking charm fastening his rear and hands to his seat would dissolve soon enough.

Until then…

He grunted with a great deal of effort, wriggling this way and that, hefting his weight in jumpy jerks to reach his bed where she'd left his book, chair and all. Draco nudged the cover open, wrestling the pages with his chin and cheek and began to read.

"Chapter One: Electricity…"


	7. Sick Day

_**A/N:**_ This is a ridiculous, silly thing inspired by me being laid up in bed from the wondrous icks that spreads during the winter time as well as a few of my adventures in taking care of significant others in the past.

* * *

><p>"Out. Get. Out."<p>

"No."

"Grang'r," he growled, the stuffiness of his nose obvious, "_out_."

Hermione sighed and placed the tray of tea and soup on the bedside table he was grousing in the general direction of. "No," she said again, hands on hips, "you need to eat something."

"Go'way."

"Draco-" She placed a hand on his shoulder only to have him grunt and roll over to give her his back. "Sweetheart-"

"Gon'ges szick if…don' le'me 'lone," he grumped, dropping syllables sluggishly in that nasally tone and tugged the blankets up to his chin.

"Draco, we're sleeping in the same room – the same _bed_ – I'm already going to get sick, so stop being a baby, sit up, and eat your damn soup until then."

"…m'not a baby," he pouted.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco Malfoy, like many magical people, did not seem to get sick nearly as often or as easily as the common Muggle, though when the illnesses struck they had a tendency to linger.

Draco Malfoy was also an extremely fussy little ninny when he was sick.

Making up her mind, the witch smacked him on his blanket covered bum and received another grouchy noise for the move. She did it a few more times until he finally grumbled a string of nasally curses but scooted towards the center of the bed and she crawled in behind him, draping a hand over his waist.

The second her cheek pressed against the back of his neck, she frowned. "You're burning up!" He grunted in response but she noticed he snuggled back into her. "Have you even _taken_ your potions today?"

He shrugged and made a disgruntled stuffy-nosed noise. "Tastes like shite..."

"Draco," she snapped, "you're never going to get better if you don't take them!"

Another ornery noise before he burrowed his face into the pillow, drowning out her nagging with disgruntled murmurs.

"How can you know they don't work if you're not taking them?"

_Grunt._

"Well they'll keep you from acting like such a-uh—a-a bump on a log!" She'd heard someone say that once, wasn't entirely sure of the meaning, but really, who liked bumps on things?

"…m'not a bump," he huffed.

The 'b' and 'p' both popped in a bit of an exhausted and clearly pouting splutter. They had a wet sound to them that made her quite sure he was lying in a puddle of his own drool by this point. She could almost hear his brow furrowing to go with his jutting lip.

"_Draco_."

He mumbled something else that sounded more like a moan of _"they're gross" _and she snorted. Hermione began stroking a hand along his arm and curled around him, tucking her legs up against the backs of his. _Big baby._

It was silent a long while, then, "Granger…"

"Mmm?"

"..'re you…spooning me?"

He was still stuffy but she could hear the smile in it. She smirked. "Maybe."

"…not v'ry good at it.."

"Oh, excuse me," she said and reached over him for one of their bolster pillows that he _still_ never took off the bed before getting in. Hermione tucked the thing between her thighs, pinching the cushion so it bulged awkwardly from her legs to nestle in an uncomfortable line between his butt cheeks; an experience similar to one she so often woke to. "Better? Or do you need me to start tweaking your nipples and licking your ear while I rumble about your pretty knickers as well for full immersion?"

Sudden and loud, a laugh rattled out of him, making his chest and shoulders shake until he started coughing, hacked up something particularly phlegmy only to swallow it back down with a sickening gulp.

Hermione gagged on reflex.

He laughed again.

It took threats of an _imperius_, hosing him down with disinfectant, and her mockingly humping his rear and honking his pectorals before he finally rolled back over so she could give him his potions – she was of the opinion it was the fondling of his chest with the inclusion of her avid sound effects that did him in. She lulled him to sleep afterwards with soothing circles on his back, rubbing until he was breathing deeply and continuously prodding him into better positions to keep him from making that godawful snoring noise like someone was murdering an elk. It took some time but he was finally good and medicated and out.

Now, if she could just get him to eat when he came out of it, she could call day one of "Operation: Peaked Princess" complete.


End file.
